


Hook

by justanotheranonymouswriter



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotheranonymouswriter/pseuds/justanotheranonymouswriter
Summary: Set just after Mike and Rachel's wedding in 7x16. Harvey decides to go for burgers. It doesn't go well. Hurt/comfort and lots of angsty Darvey shenanigans ensue. Written in response to a generous donation to Australian bushfire relief.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Kudos: 14





	Hook

_You and your_ fucking _burgers._

Donna is sitting with Gretchen when the call comes through.

Weary, giddy, and emotionally drained after watching Mike and Rachel walk down the aisle, she'd seen two of her dearest friends pledge their hearts and souls to each other for forever. It had been a long time coming, scheduled and cancelled and scheduled again (and again after that), and when it had finally arrived it felt like something significant for all of them had slotted, finally, into place. Mike had made it to where he'd always wanted to be and Rachel was expectant, excited, ready for the next step in a life where her five year plan had been thwarted over and over and yet she wouldn't have changed a thing.

And Donna and Harvey had gotten their moment too - at least she thought it was a moment. He wasn't meant to be there, not really, but Donna had got on the phone and told him and Harvey was on his way to the airport before she'd even hung up the call. And so he walked down the aisle alongside her but it felt almost like he was walking down the aisle _with_ her and then he spent most of the ceremony looking at her with a smile that was, to her at least, so overt that she almost wanted to remind him that other people could see him. But there's something about weddings that she knows even Harvey can't avoid. And so he smiled at her and she smiled at him and thought _maybe_ _he's got it, maybe he's there_.

But sitting on top of that maybe was the reality that she had spent most of the night watching over Harvey. It was too easy to turn away from that undertow of _something's happening_ and into their comfortable push and pull, protector and protected, guarded and guardian angel. Because Rachel had told Donna their plans before the ceremony, and her stomach had dropped out at the word _Seattle_. It wasn't entirely a surprise. Donna was Donna, and had seen something coming; saw the internal battle Mike faced day after day at the firm, saw the growing chasm between who he was and what he found himself doing. She saw Harvey's attempts to bridge that chasm, saw they weren't working, saw that something was going to break.

In the end, it was New York that broke. She asked Mike if she was going to tell Harvey, and, when he hesitated, fixed him with a clear, unblinking, stare, until he meekly promised to tell him and then told him at the wedding (it was all he could do but she still thought, _asshole_ , because she isn't fair when it comes to Harvey) and left Harvey standing at the bar with his back to the world and his head cocked in the way he does when he's been emptied out.

So she took his hand, tugged him out to the crowd, back to humanity and life and living, and they danced. She felt him lean into her - not just into her body but into her heart and soul and into the safety she held out to him by giving up hers. She knew Harvey was dancing with her so he wouldn't have to talk to her, wouldn't have to find a way to express his loss and grief and confusion that Mike and Rachel were etching their names on the list of people who have left him. But she loves dancing with him, so they both pretend. They both lie.

She felt it. She felt the lie of _I didn't feel anything when I kissed you_ and the truth in _I want more_ that wasn't about promotions to named partner or to COO, and it wasn't about computer chips grasping at her empathy and wisdom, and it was too much because they were touching and because there was a chunk of him that she could feel was tearing apart under the surface so she didn't say anything because she never said anything, they never said anything, not really, and instead she ducked her chin into the crook of his neck and let her fingers drift along his arm and down his back and pretended that was how friends dance when they're just friends.

And eventually, Robert had come to pull Harvey away for shop talk, and Harvey shrugged an apology at Donna, which she raised an eyebrow at and carefully tucked away the feeling of infinity that sharing space and breath and air with Harvey brought, and got a bottle of wine, and found Gretchen. They laughed and teased and formed an honorary farewell guard as guests slowly found their way home in twos and threes, shabby and happy and spent.

And then eventually Harvey had come by, hands in his pockets, asked if anyone wanted to go get a burger because he'd asked Robert and Robert had said no, but Harvey had a thing for shitty street food, and he also had a thing for an open bar, and now he had the slightly off centre look of someone who had imbibed more champagne than food (Harvey could categorically _not_ handle his champagne) so it was probably a good call all things considered. So he asked Gretchen and Gretchen had looked at him like Donna imagined she looked at Louis almost every day of the week. Harvey knew a 'no' when he saw one so had turned his gaze to Donna. He had a glint in his eyes that was made from equal parts of the champagne, the wedding and the look he saved for her when he winked across his office at her.

For Christ's sake, when would her heart stop hammering into her throat anytime he caught her with that look. Fucking sideways, boy scout with a secret, I-know-something-hilarious-you-don't look that made his head tilt and his mouth hover around a smile. "How about you? Burger?"

_Yes._

"No."

_Fuck._

Self preservation had kicked into high gear, because she was maybe drunk and he was definitely drunk, and finding dive bar food down dark alleys would only lead to them giggling over cheap alcohol in dark alleys and then probably pushing each other up into the corners of another dark alley, kissing each other breathless until his shirt wrinkled and she ran out of words, and then falling into a cab so they could get to his place and slide into each others bodies and souls and it would definitely happen tonight because Donna was raw and emotional and so was he. But sometimes Donna was her own guardian angel so she heard herself say 'no' out loud and then _no_ inside to herself when he looked so crestfallen that she nearly changed her mind. But she knows if she goes with him now she'll be lose herself in him and there won't be a way back that doesn't break them both in half.

So she bids him goodnight, and he offers a small sad smile which makes her heart break, and she stays with Gretchen a lot longer than she would have normally because if she leaves when there's a chance he's still out with his shitty food and shitty beer she knows deep in her heart she will find him and let her emotions make more decisions than their reality can cope with.

She's just about to call it a night and fall into a cab with her shoes in her handbag when her phone rings.

It's after midnight and it's an unknown number and she isn't ready for it, isn't ready for the words 'New York Presbyterian' and 'emergency contact' and she hears her startled 'what happened? Is it Harvey? Is he okay? Tell me he's okay' come out in a rush and she feels her gut bottom out and her heart push out of her rib cage and it's good that she's already sitting down because she feels the strength leave her legs and she isn't sure what happened to gravity but it's a lot stronger than it was a second ago.

Gretchen takes the phone from her shaking hand, which helps because Donna's hearing has blinked out behind a sudden ringing and she's panicking which isn't helping but there it is, it's Harvey and she's never really had a choice about how her emotions work when it comes to him. She says 'I have to go' and 'I have to see him' and fumbles to get her phone back, Gretchen is saying to hold on but Donna can't hold on because it's _Harvey_ and he needs her.

She hails a cab and asks the driver _quickly please_ and then waits and panics as the streets pass by entirely too slowly and it's awful. She calls him and he doesn't answer, she knows he won't answer but every time it clicks to voicemail the knot in her stomach gets a bit tighter anyway.

—

The nurses at the nurses station are even less ready for Donna then Donna was for their phone call and they're not meant to give out Harvey's information unless she's his wife but Donna is not up for their shit so says fine she's his wife. She skewers them with the look she normally reserves for Harvey on his worst days, pins them into their chairs with one of her best lectures, and they give her the room number and say words like 'fight' and 'concussion'. She finds emergency triage, finds the door to his cubicle and pushes it open -

He is awake.

_thank god_

And he looks awful; eyebrow held together with butterfly stitches, eye socket mottling black and blue, one cheekbone swollen and angry. His right arm is pulled up and strapped across his chest, both hands wrapped at the knuckles and he worries at his drip line with punch glazed eyes. He's slouched in a seat, shirt sleeves rolled, scuffed and bruised and the worse for wear but he is alive and he looks clear enough as she shoulders into the door and he looks up and

"Harvey."

He looks up as she speaks, says "Donna," like something akin to wonder.

"Harvey -" she starts to ask what happened, is he okay, did he call the police, but instead she makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gasp and a sob and she's knelt in front of him with one hand on his good cheek and the other in his hair and his skin is warm and she didn't think she'd ever have to decide to not take that for granted again.

"Oh my god, Harvey."

"You're here."

"Of course I'm here, I'm your emergency contact." She runs her hand down his cheek, his neck, over his chest. She's checking him over, soothing him, reassuring herself all at once and it doesn't even cross her mind that smoothing her palm over his ribs and down to rest gently on the side of his hip is definitely not within the perfectly clear lines they drew years ago and it's not even really in the blurring of those lines that they've tiptoed to the edges of countless times before. Harvey's hand falls to hers at his waist but it's not to stop her and he threads his fingers through hers, squeezing lightly like he's trying to both comfort her and asking for comfort all at once. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he says. "Picked the wrong burger place. Some kid jumped me for my wallet. He had a bat." He winces as she passes her fingers over a bruise forming on his ribs. "At least that's what they're saying. I can't really remember." He considers, then adds for good measure, "little fucker."

She silently vows never to let this man out of her sight again, and she doesn't think she believes in God, but maybe he exists and sent her to look after him because he can't be trusted to buy a burger without being nearly murdered and he can't use his cellphone.

"Fuck's sake Harvey," she says and her voice is working without her permission and it's angry and relieved all at once, relieved that he's alive and he's not unconscious or in surgery or 'it's 50/50 ma'am' and angry because he probably mouthed off at whoever it was that did this to him and he's a god damned _idiot_ and so is she for refusing to go with him and so what if she ended up underneath him in his bed if it meant he wouldn't have been sitting there with his face split open and his eyes slightly more haunted than they were yesterday.

He starts to explain and apologise in that way he does where he doesn't really explain and acts like he's never heard the word 'sorry' but she is already pushing up into him, her arms around him and hugging tighter than any medical professional would recommend under the circumstances. She feels his head drop, his face push into the side of her neck, his good arm snaking around her back and hugging her to him, and he is big and heavy and alive. She scratches into his hairline, blinking back the tears she can feel threatening, murmurs, "I'm so glad you're okay," and he murmurs back that he's not going anywhere and he presses his hand into the back of her neck and they don't move for a while because they're both okay.

—

Harvey is eventually allowed to leave, after they try to suggest he stays overnight for observation and he scowls and argues until Donna rolls her eyes and takes personal responsibility for him. He has a mild concussion, scrapes and bruises and his rotator cuff needs to be strapped for several days, but after he promises to take the rest of the week off to rest and also promises not to drink any more alcohol until he's recovered the nurses let him go because they have seen enough to know a pain in the ass when they meet one. So Donna takes the pills and extra bandages they leave with him, gets him home, and he lets her fuss over him because it makes them both feel better. So she gently shoves him into the shower and makes the couch up to stay over while she cries and tries not to cry because she's Donna and she doesn't cry over idiots who get in stupid fights, so she pulls herself together and asks him if he's okay through the bathroom door every two minutes instead. She borrows a shirt and shorts to sleep in and tries not to think about what that means and what it could mean, tries not to think about the many times she's lain awake at night thinking about wearing his shirt and wearing his smell.

He emerges, and he still looks godawful but he's lighter and clean, soft shirt and pants drawing his arms and torso in a way she would have taken much more notice of two hours ago, and his eyes are still glassy and now that he's only with Donna and doesn't have a group of strangers to be the best closer in New York in front of, he's gone quiet and she's not sure if it's because of the hospital because Harvey hates hospitals or the injuries or the fact Mike and Rachel are leaving or all three. But he sees her wearing his shirt, wearing his shorts, and he raises the eyebrow that little fucker didn't split open, and she raises one back at him and says "don't say a word," and he smiles and it's like the sun coming out.

She helps him into bed, and she's about to say goodnight and retreat to the couch where she can lie awake all night and listen to him breathing and try to ignore her imagination when he holds his good arm out to her and she can she the hurt sitting behind his smile and he needs her. She sits down next to him and turns her body into his, sliding her arms around his shoulders and letting him sag against her and he doesn't cry but he comes as close as Harvey ever does to doing so.

"Mike's leaving."

"I know."

A pause.

"Ungrateful little shit."

"He really is." She smiles into his temple, finds herself placing a gentle kiss there and she decides she quite likes concussed Harvey. "Let's fire both of them tomorrow."

She waits as long as she dares, feels concern turning to that familiar ache, that knot low in her stomach, and this is not the night for crossing lines so she presses him back into his pillows, and as she pulls back he squeezes her arm and if she didn't know better she would think he was trying to find a way to ask her to stay without saying it out loud, to fold herself against him and run her hand over his body until he sleeps, and she wants to as well but they are both still emotional and both still raw and so instead she smoothes his hair away from his forehead, says 'goodnight Harvey', and settles into his couch.

She lies awake in his shirt, listening to his breathing, and tries to ignore her imagination.

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> The person who donated to relief in Australia has asked to remain anonymous, but also asked me to share this piece with you - thank you to that generous soul!
> 
> This was a challenging one, as it is a prompt I wouldn't normally write - thanks to the generosity of the fan who has chosen to stay anonymous for choosing to trust me with their idea! Your feedback for this will be gratefully received.


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